


The Nose

by Fire_Bear



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 14:43:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3533213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Bear/pseuds/Fire_Bear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America is super annoyed that England isn't coming to his house to have fun with him, Canada and Japan because there's something he has to do. So, when Japan turns up and finds him sulking, he suggests they take their fun and games to England's house. What they find is strange to say the least...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Nose

“It's not fair!” America whined, pressing the trigger button so that Mario threw a banana skin behind him. Flicking the joystick, he made the kart skid around a fake weapon box. “This weekend was supposed to be awesome!”

“Well, it can still be 'awesome' if you want it to,” came the soft voice of Canada. America glanced at him and saw that he was smiling at America encouragingly. Looking back to the TV, he noted that Canada's kart had fallen off the track again. After King Boo was returned to the track, he was immediately hit by a stray green shell. Seeing as Mario punched the air in victory, it was one America had launched earlier.

“Oops. Sorry, bro,” he said, grinning in amusement. The happiness didn't last long: he was soon frowning once more. “But, still! I wanted there to be four of us! And now there's only three – if Japan doesn't cancel. What're we gonna do if it's just the two of us?” He drove Mario across the finish line – in first place – and dropped the controller onto the couch beside him.

“He only said that he can't come tomorrow,” Canada pointed out, his King Boo being pushed out of the way by Waluigi. “You were the one that said that he 'might as well not come at all'. It's more your fault than his.”

“But, if he doesn't come tomorrow, then we can't do all the awesome tournaments I'd planned out!” exclaimed America, watching King Boo and a nearby kart being hit with lightning. Canada sighed beside him as he forced the kart to trundle on.

At that point, the doorbell rang. America leapt to his feet as Canada finally managed to get across the finishing line in seventh place. He hurried to his front door and pulled it open to reveal a tired Asian nation. Japan was trying to stifle a yawn. America grinned.

“You made it!” Without further ado, America grabbed his suitcase and dragged Japan into his home. “Come in, sit down! We got chips and dips for now but we'll order in pizza or something. Or maybe go for a smorgasbord of different stuff.”

Japan meekly followed him. When they reached the living room, he bowed his head in Canada's direction. “Konbanwa, Canada-san,” he said.

“Hi, Japan. Watch out – America's sulking.”

“Oh? What is wrong?”

“Nothing!” America said, quickly. “I'll go put your suitcase in one of the rooms.”

However, the nation was ignored. “England said he can't come,” explained Canada.

“Really?” asked Japan, surprised. “His elections are coming up soon, are they not?”

America butted in. “Yeah! And this was supposed to be an epic holiday for him and he's not coming. He said there was something important going on tomorrow. Now the tournament's all ruined.”

“Can we not wait for him?”

“Apparently, that's not acceptable,” said Canada, sounding amused. America pouted at him and Japan chuckled. “Besides,” continued the northern nation, “England says the first flight he could get wouldn't get here till the middle of Saturday and he'd be jet lagged so there's no point.”

“Sucks, man!” America said as he turned to go upstairs.

“Could we not go to England's place instead?” asked Japan.

Everyone froze. Music from the Mario Kart game repeated itself in the ensuing silence. Finally, America turned around to look at a neutral Japan and a wincing Canada. “Huh,” he said. “Sounds like a plan.”

* * *

 

America pounded on the front door, an exhausted Japan and an exasperated Canada standing behind them. They had managed to arrive on the Friday evening and were currently waiting for England to open the door. “Come on, England!” America yelled. “Open up!”

He almost fell through the door when it opened. “Would you stop that infernal racket?!” he heard England yell. It sounded like he had a cold, actually. But, when he looked up at the resident, he wasn't entirely sure he was looking at England.

The man who had opened the door had the same straw-coloured hair as England and the same piercing, green eyes. He was wearing England's clothes: smart, black pants; crisp, white shirt; red sweater with a v-neck. However, there was a red nose, white paint spread liberally across his face, a wide red smile painted around his lips and fancy eye make-up. America could only stare for a moment.

“E-England?” he asked. The stuffy nation couldn't be wearing a clown face; America just couldn't believe it.

“Yes? What is it? Why are you here, America?” demanded England, his scowl at odds with the face paint. “Don't you have a vid-? Japan? Canada?” It seemed England had noticed America's companions. Suddenly remembering them himself, America spun around to see if he was the only one seeing this oddity.

Canada's eyes were wide and his hand was over his mouth. He looked as though he was trying his hardest not to laugh. Japan seemed frozen, as if in shock. It seemed as though this really was happening. Or he was having a very realistic dream on the plane.

“K-Konbanwa...” said Japan, eventually.

“What are you all doing here?”

“Well,” said America, slowly, turning back to stare at the monstrosity before him. “Um, well. We thought we'd bring the fun of the Mario Kart Tournament to you. Obviously, we've come at a bad time, what with... um... you losing your mind and all. Again.”

England's eyebrows furrowed. They had been painted white, too, which just served to make him look more ridiculous. America was suddenly hit with the urge to laugh but he wasn't sure what this crazed clown would do if he did. So he bit his lip and watched England's confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

“You look like a clown!” Canada suddenly burst out. He let out a bark of laughter and hurriedly stifled it.

Blinking for a moment, England still looked confused. Did he not know he'd been painted? A giggle burst from America's mouth and he had to turn away, shaking with laughter. At first, both he and Canada tried to stop it. Then they both gave up and were soon leaning on each other as they guffawed at the situation. From what America could see through his tears, Japan was trying to keep a rare, wide smile hidden.

When they had finally calmed down, America turned back to England, fully expecting an unamused look. However, England was smiling now. He didn't look amused but he certainly looked happy.

“What's going on, England?” America ventured to ask, a giggle escaping again. He bit his lip a little more forcefully in an attempt to hold back even more laughter.

“It looks as though I've managed to do it,” was the reply. “Since you laughed, would you mind giving me a few quid?”

“What?” asked America, incredulous.

England grinned, now looking even more like an out-of-place clown. “Come inside and I'll explain.” He held the door open for them. After a hesitant look was passed between the three other nations, they stepped through the door, dragging their luggage with them.

Once they were inside, England closed the door and led them to the living room. They followed and found the room as it usually was. The forest green couch and its matching armchairs faced the old flat-screen TV (which he had only installed because his original television stopped working after half a century). A coffee table was meticulously tidied, little black coasters with a floral pattern were at each of the four corners. Pale green curtains had been drawn back to allow the sun to shine on some twigs with yellow flowers attached – America had no idea what they were but it looked as though England had cut them from a tree. His bookcases still had the neatly alphabetised rows of DVDs, a few video games and some books (most of his books resided in his small library and he never allowed America into it). Cabinets showcased some of the fancier bits and bobs England had collected over the years. The old fireplace had been blocked off with what looked like a few sheets of metal (to prevent odd things and nations from entering?) and the mantelpiece above it held pictures of England with his recent bosses and his beloved Queen, as well as a few choice ornaments.

However, there was one obvious difference. In the corner, obscuring part of a bookcase, was a square, cardboard box. It was open but, from the doorway, America couldn't see what was in it.

“Have a seat,” England said, tearing America from his staring match. Without waiting any longer, America flopped onto the couch, sprawling across all three cushions. Japan sat on one of the chairs opposite England so Canada was forced to squeeze into what remaining space there was beside America.

“Well?” said America, impatiently.

“It's Red Nose Day,” he explained.

“Red Nose Day?” Why did that sound slightly familiar to America?

“It's organised by a charity called Comic Relief. They raise money for all sorts of causes,” England explained. “Every two years, they take over the telly with comedy shows and celebrities doing things to raise awareness. They sell these red noses” - he gestured at the big thing on his face - “and all manner of other red things. They encourage you to 'do something funny for money' and, this year, they want you to 'make your face funny for money'. Since you laughed, I'm charging you a couple of pounds each. If you don't mind.”

“I don't have any of your crazy British money on me,” said America, sticking out his tongue. “But that sounds fun.”

Rolling his eyes, England said, “And that's why you're doing it in May. Though it won't be as good as ours.”

“We are?”

“Yes. Did you not know about it?” asked England, frowning. “I thought they played an advert during the Super Bowl.”

“How do _you_ know what went on in the _Super Bowl_?”

“Huh,” said Canada, suddenly. “You know, that sounds a lot like Juste Pour Aider.”

England focussed on him and nodded, smiling. “Yes, Comic Relief is one of the charities that help organise that. Red Nose Day, though, is different. It's not a festival and it happens nationwide.” He paused and tilted his head slightly. “And in other countries, too.”

“What other countries?” America demanded. Other countries were getting in on this? He had competition for being better than England at this gig?

With another roll of his eyes, England looked back to America. “You can find out for yourself,” he said, primly. “There _is_ a website, after all.”

No more was needed to be said as America whipped out his phone. Going onto Google and, with a few swipes and taps, he had soon found what he needed. What he discovered was that Norway, Iceland, Finland and Germany were all in on it. He scowled. America was the hero: he was supposed to be doing this sort of thing first!

Before he could protest, Japan spoke up. “That sounds interesting, England-san.”

“If you want, we could open up talks with charities in your country.”

“Are all the noses little robots?” asked Canada, suddenly.

America blinked and looked up at England's nose, looking closer. Canada was right; it looked like a small robot. “Woah, cool!” he cried. “Where do I get one?”

England shifted in his seat, looking as though he was fidgeting. Possibly from nerves or embarrassment? America couldn't tell with the paint covering England's cheeks. “I, er, have a... few... more. And they're all different designs. In the box in the cor-”

Without waiting for an answer, America leapt to his feet and bounded over. When he peeked into it, he paused. “Uh, why are there so many?”

“Well,” said England, hiding in his armchair. All America could see was his shaggy hair. However, from Canada's raised eyebrows, he figured England probably looked as uncomfortable as he had a few seconds ago. “You see...” said England, slowly. “There... There's a 'Golden Nose'.”

“A what?” asked America as he stepped over to the armchair. He leaned on the back of it, arms folded, looming over England.

Sighing, England leaned his head back so that he could look up at America. “A Golden Nose. There's only a few out there and you can win a prize if you find one. It's rather like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.”

“And, because it's like one of your books, you wanted to win?”

He barely had time to register England's obvious surprise before the British nation dropped his head. “Not at all!” he barked, hastily. “I just like to give money to a good cause.”

Catching Canada's eyes, he smirked and his northern neighbour responded by rolling his eyes. “ _Sure_ ,” said America, lacing his voice with liberal amounts of sarcasm. “I can still take a nose, right?”

“By all means.”

America pulled out one of each different design he could find and dumped them on the table. A couple rolled off and Canada scrambled to pick them up. England rolled his eyes at his antics and sighed. “There's lots!” America declared, grinning at the selection. Picking one up, he gasped. “This one was made for me! Look!” He showed it to everyone, a little red person with a black superhero costume. “It's a hero, just like me!” And he proceeded to put it so he could show it off to them. England rolled his eyes again, though he was smiling now: he seemed rather amused by this turn of events. “D'ya have face paint for me, too.”

Tilting his head, England seemed to think about it. “I'm sure I can find some.” He rose from his chair and left the room.

In the meantime, Canada picked up the one which looked like a scuba diver. America passed over the one which looked like it was supposed to be a ninja but looked more like it was some guy doing a workout. Japan accepted it without complaint.

When England returned, he held up some paint and a paintbrush. “Are you ready?” he asked.

* * *

 

“So,” said America once they had finished their face painting (he had gotten a superhero's eye mask, Japan painted himself to look like a cat and Canada had maple leaves all over his face – the one on his chin was a little smudged from where he had scratched it). “You mentioned TV shows. What we gonna be watching?”

England's eye twitched but he answered anyway. “It starts soon, at seven.”

“Cool. How long does it go on?”

“Till two in the morning.”

“Holy-!” exclaimed America, his eyes wide. “Can you even stay awake that long, old man?”

“Tch, I'm not going to stay up till then. It's not exactly interesting viewing from one onwards.”

“What exactly will we be watching?” asked Japan, looking quite happy for a cat.

Apparently, England was quite keen to talk about it as he immediately launched into an explanation. “There's a Mr. Bean sketch – a new one, mind you – as well as a Little Britain one. That one has Stephen Hawking in it, of course. I think there's a Vicar of Dibley sketch as well – that's got Dawn French in it. You know, the singing Fat Lady from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. There will be a whole host of comedians, as well. When the news comes on One at ten, they have something about the Comic Relief Great British Bake Off on BBC 2.”

America blinked. “That sounds like... we need food.”

Sighing, England stood. “I can go make something if-”

“No!” cried America. Japan looked rather distressed and Canada was grimacing. “I wanna order pizza.”

There was a pause as England thought about it. America was expecting to get into another cooking argument (hadn't he had one the last time he'd seen England? They all sort of blurred together...) However, much to his surprise, England nodded. “Yes, all right. That will mean someone else will be at the door to laugh at us.”

* * *

 

The four nations had had a fun night: watched the TV, scared the pizza delivery man, told jokes and, upon England's suggestion, playing board games during the 'boring' parts (as America called them). On the Saturday, they had completed America's tournaments, with the losers donating more money to Comic Relief. All in all, it had been an enjoyable weekend.

Two months later, England was relaxing with a glass of rum when the telephone rang. Sighing, he stood and made his way to the hall. Picking up the receiver, he said, rather irritably, “Yes?”

“Yo, England! You won't guess what epic thing is happening tonight?”

Frowning, England shrugged. “I probably won't, with it being you.”

“Aw, c'mon! Guess!”

“Can't you just tell me?”

“Nope!”

Using one hand, England rubbed at his forehead, willing himself to have patience with the idiot. “If you don't tell me, I _will_ hang up.”

“Fine!” said America, the pout clear in his voice. “It's Red Nose Day!”

“Ah, yes,” said England, smiling. “I take it you've finally seen the brilliance of my 'odd British charity', unlike what you were saying in March?”

“Nuh uh! I'm doing it _way_ better than you!” exclaimed America, obviously grinning. “I bet that everyone will be doing it like me soon! No-one will want to watch your weird British stu-!”

England hung up on America and unplugged the phone, making his way to his much needed rum.

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't think of an ending but... I looked up some stuff and I suppose this is better than whatever I had vaguely planned. (It's really bad. =/ )
> 
> Red Nose Day is really going to be in America in May. Have fun.
> 
> Juste Pour Aider happens in June.
> 
> Comic Relief is slowly going to take over the world one red nose at a time...


End file.
